The Grimoire
by SwiftShiftGear
Summary: "For the night is dark, and full of terrors." There's a new villain in town - mercenary of many names and a jack of all trades. She takes odd jobs and evades JCPD at every turn. The Titans are called in, but, there's something...off about this mercenary. Raven's getting bad vibes... Rated M for language, later gore & sexual references.
1. Here's to the Crazy Ones

Two immortal, trans dimensional, god-beings yammering my proverbial ear off and still not one suggestion as to how the fuck I'm meant to get out of this one. Oh, but where are my nonexistent manners? You probably want to know who I am, don't you, new voice in my head? You can call me Grimoire for now. That's what _those_ two call me, anyway; among other things. I have lots of names, though. But, for now, you can call me Grim, for short.

But, anyway, new voice, maybe you can help me out. We're in a warehouse- well, I am anyway. You're probably in some alternate plane of existence or something stupid like that- and there are police outside just waiting to fill me with holes_. Bullet_ holes. I may be, immortal- indestructible, whatever- but that shit stings.

Yeah, this wasn't really my best operation. I got a job from some weirdo in a fancy suit in a dark alley to lift this cool, supposedly cursed, amulet from this museum shipment. He thinks he'll rule the world or something with it, I bet. That's what all creepy suited guys in alleys want. Probably. Shut up, voice, what do you know anyway. Any ideas as to how I can get outta this, by the way? No? God, your just as useless as Yog. At least your nicer, I guess.

I guess I'll just sneak out with Obfuscate. Whatever. This sucks. I hate my life. Fuck Cthulhu. Fuck Yog Sothoth.

Oh. And, fuck you. You weird, stupid new voice in my head. You don't even talk, you freeloader.

I hate my life.

_You are a tome, Al Azif. You do not have a life._

Fuck you with a cactus, you shitty ass squid.

I hate my existence.

* * *

**a/n: Wow, I have a lot of ongoing stories. I feel like i right a lot of my introductions this way. This story is also being written on fictionpress as an original story (with a few alterations, of course.) So, it's probably going to start diverging next chapter. Thank you for reading, please leave a review!**


	2. Lost in Translation

A young couple rushed through the dark streets of Gotham; a muscular black man with a rugged five 'o clock shdow and a slim woman of decidedly mediterranean descent with long hair pulled back in a messy bun. In the woman's arms, a bundle of light blue cloth wriggled and cooed. A sleepy eyed baby, only several weeks old, burbled happily at its parents. The mother shushed the child as the father shot a wary look at their surroundings.  
"Keep 'er quiet," he said, lowly.

"We shouldn't do this," the woman muttered back. "We should back out. It's not too late. I don't…" She trailed off looking down at the baby girl forlornly.

"We're not backing down, now," he hissed back. "It's what's best. When the Ancient Ones return, we'll be spared the torment, and we - all of us! - will live like royalty! Our sacrifice will be rewarded!"

"Our sacrifice?" She questioned, almost angry now. "We sacrifice nothing! None of us have! The only martyr here is her!" She nodded down to the baby who still hummed happily despite her parents' tone!"

"There is no greater sacrifice than one's own blood," the man replied, calmly. "To give up one's own life – whether for another or to escape hardship – is the coward's way." He stepped closer to the woman and child and reached out to brush his hands through the short curls on his daughters head. He looked into her eyes saying, "Remember that, sweet pea. Suicide is for the weak. And, the weak do not survive the culling. Live, at all costs. " The child stared back uncomprehendingly. She looked confused before cooing back wordlessly, wrapping tiny fingers around her father's hand as he pulled it away.

The mother frowned, but acquiesced.

Soon they reached a building; a condemned would-be beautiful church, its name long since forgotten and the cross taken long ago. They crept inside, the man removing a piece of plywood covering a hole and holding it aside as the woman carefully slipped in, child in tow. They climbed the decrepit stairs leading to the congregation hall; the woman shushed the now whimpering infant.

Lining the walls of the wide room were red sigils, written in some long dead language. On the floor, there were several large circular markings written in a sticky red substance. The room was alight with a variety of candles of various sizes, flames glowing sinister orange and sickening green. A group of about thirty people, all of different ages and ethnicities sat on the rotting pulpits, silent and staring straight ahead. A priestly looking man stood in the pulpit, pouring over a strange weathered, leathery tome. He wore an ornate black, gold and red robe. He appeared to be middle aged, thin and balding. He greeted them in what a way that would be friendly if not for the solemn, stoic look on his face.

"Brother, sister. You have finally joined us." He eyed the child. "I see you've brought the Binding."

"Yes, brother," they chorused together, although the woman was a bit reluctant.

"Very well," he raised his voice to address all the gathered people. "Brothers, sisters! It is time to perform the ritual! That which will hasten our master's return and free his chosen from their binding! Rise and gather around the circle!"

The group moved like so many puppets, sluggishly surrounding the circle, the priest, the couple and the baby. They began chanting in a strange, foreign tongue. The child began to cry, screaming and sobbing. The priest retrieved his book and placed it in one of the two smaller circles. Then, he turned to the man and woman. "Place the Binding in that circle there and step back."

The child's mother looked like she wanted to resist but, reluctantly placed the child in her husband's arms, stroking the girls hair. He placed the child in the circle across from the book. The child's wails increased in volume. The man and woman joined in the chant, tears running down their cheeks.

As the rhythmic chanting continued, the priest retrieved a vial and a blade. He sliced the screaming child's palm, collecting the blood and mixing it with the substance in the vial. He began speaking some sort of incantation and pulled a pitch black feather from his robes and dipped it in the mixture. He drew a line with the substance, connecting the two circles. It was an ugly brownish red with inconsistencies and lumps. He brushed the remaining substance on the cover of the book and on the baby's face, ignoring its panicked screeching. The priest then lit the feather with one of the green fames of a nearby candle and placed it dead center on the line between the circles. He stopped speaking suddenly and the chant broke off.

The fire surged in to the two circles, both of which broke into brilliant green flames. The book began to size and burn, but the baby continued to scream as if in pain now, but appeared to remain unharmed. It suddenly became horrific to listen to, a long and otherworldly sound. As the child's scream reached peak pitch, the flames got brighter and brighter until the priest and followers had to cover their eyes, temporarily blinded by the light.

And then, everything stopped. Even the candles.

The scream, the light, the fire, gone. The leathery old book was nowhere to be found and sitting now in the center of the large circle was the child. But, she was different. She was quiet. She stared curiously around the room; eyes that were previously a warm brown were now deep crimson. Marring her skin were glowing red sigils in various languages: Greek, Latin, Arabic, and several others as well as several symbols like those on the walls. Slowly, they began to fade black, as if someone had tattooed her entire form. The baby girl's garnet eyes found her parents. She smiled and clapped her tiny hands, the cut on one of her palms now completely healed. She laughed.

It was a normal laugh for a baby; a jolly chuckle that under most circumstances would bring a smile to someone's face. However, as the giggles continued, something strange happened. The cultists, her parents, all but the priest began to panic. They screamed and ran wildly to the door. The baby continued to laugh as they tried to flee from monsters only they could see.

The screams got louder and more horrified as the baby laughed on. Suddenly, they all tapered off and as if torn apart by rabid beasts, their bodies fell to the floor in pieces.

The priest ignored the corpses and picked up the child. She quieted down and looked somberly up at him. They stared into each other's eyes and remained motionless for several moments. Suddenly, the priest began to laugh a wild hysterical cackle. He sat the child down on the pedestal wear the book sat before, still laughing. The baby watched him as he rambled on still laughing. "Oh, Great Old Ones! I have done it! Are you pleased?!" There was no response as the girl continued to watch him. "Are you pleased?!" He seemed to hear something now. "What's that, my lords? Another task?" The baby seemed to be beginning to nod off. "A cleansing? A cleansing of fire? Then, I may join you? Thank you, Lords!" He lifted up a match, lighting it. He tossed it on his robes, which instantly caught as if doused with gasoline. "Thank you, Gods!" he screamed in both admiration and agony. He flailed and screamed for hours until eventually, he collapsed, his corpse still burning.

The child had long since fallen asleep and the strange markings that marred her skin were now nearly invisible. And, as the old decrepit church began to burn, an inhuman shadow was cast over her tiny form.

When the authorities showed up to investigate the strange fire, all they could find were 37 shredded, unrecognizable charred bodies. The next morning, a dark skinned, red eyed, elf-eared baby was found sleeping peacefully in a basket in front of the Gotham City Orphanage.

* * *

_Eighteen years later..._

A lithe figure skulked around the warehouse. Crates filled with an assortment of artifacts and works of art decorated the dim building. The figure glanced around, luminous crimson eyes sweeping over the perimeter. They flinched and ducked behind a crate as a loud pounding echoed. Jump City police rammed the door again and a voice rang out, "This is your last chance! Come out with your hands up! Surrender, thief!"

A distinctly feminine alto voice murmured, "Suck my dick," in response, although the officers couldn't hear. The shadowy figure slunk backwards, away from the door as it began to cave.

With a crash, the thick wood of the door gave in and like a swarm of rats JCPD flooded in, weapons at the ready. One gave a series of hand gestures and the small army split into two groups; one covered the left wing of the warehouse and the other, the right. The figure, keeping an eye on both groups, slipped between stacks of boxes, sincerely regretting attacking the security guard so openly earlier. Quickly, as the officers began to advance, rapidly approaching her hiding spot, she darted backwards, deeper into the warehouse.

"Open fire," screamed the leader. She skillfully dodged, almost dancing to avoid each shot. As she disappeared behind crates she waved mockingly back at the commander, blowing a flirtatious kiss and winking beneath her mask.

He growled before shouting, "Flank her!" The groups surged forward before splitting up again, walking to either side of the crates, their guns trained to the place they thought she would pop up.

"Sunova…" she muttered. She tucked her prize, a beautifully ornate wooden amulet, into her pocket and lifted a dagger to her palm, slicing it open. As the blood dribbled down, she whispered "Maledictaterra in qua defunctus vita novicogitationes et oddly corporeissunt, et ex malo et non estsensus, qui habet in capite." The steady stream of lifeblood formed the words on the floor in red script before glowing and spreading into a wide circle and dimming into what looked like black ink and eventually fading away entirely. She licked the cut and watched it heal up near instantly. She snickered. Stifling her grin, the thief walked around to the front of the crate hands held up to the side of her head palms out, careful to stay within the circle of text.

"Alright, alright, you got me," she said with false remorse. Slowly, she brought her hands out together in front of her, wrists limp. "I'll go quietly."

The commander smirked, pulling out a set of hand cuffs, saying, "Glad you see reason, girl. But, just to make sure there are no tricks. Move in, boys!"

The group surged forward, following their leader. The moment one of them stepped in the circle, the words reappeared, illuminating the entire room with a crimson glow. The officers paused, fear written on their faces as the thief's lips pulled into a sinister grin. She jeered at them.

"What…? What the hell is this?! What did you do?!"

She laughed; a cruel, contemptuous sound. "'Cursed the ground where dead thoughts live new and oddly bodied, and evil the mind that is held by no head.'" She walked up to the commander and flicked his nose, grinning. He lunged to grab her but, found his feet locked in place. She strolled past him, whistling a tune as the police officers struggled to move from their places. She ignored their shouts and protests. "You're welcome to try and catch me again later, but until then, have a nice time boys. I've got a gift to deliver."

She strolled casually out of the warehouse, before pausing and sticking her head through the door again. "Oh, here, let me get the lights for you." She pulled a lever and slammed the door shut, plunging JCPD into stifling, maddening darkness.

* * *

Later, in a small, quiet teashop, an eighteen-year-old girl sat enjoying a cup of Earl Grey tea. She sat near a window, ear buds in her slightly pointed ears and her crimson gaze trained lazily on her laptop. The sun gave her dark skin a bronze glimmer and, if one looked closely, almost highlighted near visible markings scrawled across her face, neck, and exposed forearms.

She scrolled idly through a series of articles on various topics- the mayor's affair, a bank robbery, a school fundraiser- before refreshing the page. She raised an eyebrow at the "breaking news" tagline at the top of the webpage. Taking a sip of her tea, she clicked the link and, to her surprise, was sent to a live feed of the warehouse she had visited earlier. With an amused smirk, she upped the volume and signaled to a waiter for a refill.

"…_een Titans have just arrived on the scene. Hopefully, the team's magic expert, Raven will be able to overcome JCPD's curious conundrum. If you've just joined us, earlier today JCPD was called to apprehend a thief spotted sneaking into a museum delivery warehouse. Long story short, Jump City's finest were unable to apprehend the tenacious raiderand found themselves trapped in the dark warehouse as the criminal absconded with their plunder. …What? Oh! This just in! We have reports that the only thing stolen was a simple amulet. Apparently, it's made of wood and iron. Not worth much outside of the historical community. Maybe our wayward thief is a collector?Or, maybe they just wanted to cause trouble. More on this story as it progresses."_

The feed ended just as the server showed up. She pulled one ear bud out.

"What can I get for you, Miss…?"

"Another Earl Grey, please. With lemon and an order of almond cookies."

"And, your name?"

"Lovecraft. Helen Peregrine Lovecraft."

"Lovecraft…? Like the author? Even your initials… What an interesting coincidence."

"Heh, yeah. My parents saw an opportunity and they took it," she hummed pleasantly. Then, with an dry smile, added, "Cthulhu fhtagn. Such a wonderful phrase."

"Ha-ha. Your order will be ready shortly, Miss Lovecraft," he told her. He walked off to fill her order.

With a sigh, she reached into her pocket and ran her fingers over the amulet. "A few more hours and I'll have my money." She sighed. "What a day…"

* * *

**a/n: The Titans will show up next chapter, but for now, here's backstory stuff. Thank you for reading, please leave a review and tell me what you think!**


	3. Roll for Initiative

"It just doesn't add up!" Robin slammed his fist down on the table in frustration. The vibration traveled through the table and knocked over a cup of coffee onto the evidence he'd gathered. "Argh!"

"Dude, chill," the teams shape shifter cut in. "We're mad we haven't caught this chick yet either, but freaking out about it isn't gonna help."

"Just a month and she's getting bolder! An entire police squad! She… did something! - to an entire police squad! And the media and the commissioner are already on my ass about it."

"I hate to say it Robin but BB's right."

"Hey!"

"If we freak out, it'll just make it easier for her to slip away from us next time," Cyborg opened the fridge as he spoke. "Plus, other than the whole cop thing, she hasn't really done anything serious. She's just a thief, it could be worse."

At that moment, Raven and Starfire walked, or rather floated, in the common room.

"Any luck on that medallion, Raven?"

The sorceress held up a thick dog-eared book, and showed a picture of an odd wood and metal amulet. "I found this in the mythology section of the JC library. It's supposed to be a talisman that lets its wearer summon lesser interdimensional entities."

"Sounds nasty," Cyborg muttered around bites of pizza.

"Like Raven's dad?" The green changeling snickered. He was promptly tossed into a wall by a tendril of said demonspawn's magic.

"There have been stories of slaughter surrounding its history but not every time it's been seen and nothing says anything about monsters," she continued, as if no one had said anything.

"Perhaps it is merely the coincidence, then?"

"It could be perfectly harmless, yes."

Robin narrowed his eyes, "Even if it is just a coincidence. What that thief did today proves she could be dangerous. And I don't like the sound of that medallion. What could she want it for?"

"Maybe she is like the Red-X? To exchange the necklace for monetary gain?"

"She does fit the profile of a thief for hire, dude. There's no real trend for the things she's stolen. Heck, she might not even know what that thing _is._"

"Then, that makes this situation even more serious!" Robin was shouting again. "She could be providing some magic weapon of mass destruction to some super villain!"

His friends gave a collective groan.

"Oh, no…"

"Here we go."

"It's probably not even him, dude! Let it go! No one's seen him in months!"

"He could be planning something! What if it's some horrible, apocalyptic world domination plot!?"

Raven gave him the blankest stare of all, "Even if it was Slade and that necklace was magic, it couldn't summon anything powerful enough to take over the world. A lesser demon isn't particularly impressive. Trigon was millions of times more powerful than any class of demon with "lesser" in its name."

Cyborg cut in, "But, that doesn't matter because it's not Slade! It's probably just some rich mythology nut who didn't wanna share with the museum."

"_**An interesting theory, but incorrect I'm afraid."**_

Shocked, the Titans turned to face the widescreen monitor. Slade's masked face took up the whole screen. Robin was the first to react, growling his words with gritted teeth, "Slade! I knew you had something to do with this! What are you planning?!"

"_**Oh, nothing much, yet. I'm just trying to get all my assets in order at the moment. Waiting on a little delivery."**_

"So, it was you who hired the thief!"

"_**Oh, dear," **_Slade rolled his lone eye. _**"She is a rather useful child. I was considering simply hiring X until I saw her… resume. I may just take her for a new apprentice."**_

The boy wonder snarled, "What ever it is you're up to, we will stop you! And we will catch that thief!"

Slade laughed, an low maniacal chuckle, and reclined in his chair, revealing a bit of his surroundings. _**"We'll see about that."**_

The transmission ended. The room was silent.

"So, uh, I guess that's a point for Robin then, huh? Heh heh…" Beast Boy was thrown into the wall again. "Ow!"

…

At 43 minutes to midnight, the thief stalked and leapt lazily across the warehouse rooftops, unhurried and unconcerned about any potential witnesses. She had cast one of her most powerful and favored spells, _obfuscate, _over herself_. _She couldn't be seen by anyone unless they were already acutely aware of her presence. She counted numbers as she past them, _37…38…39…, _to ward off the impending migraine from all the chattering going on in her head.

_46…47…48…_

_**-what that silly mortal plans on-**_

_**-where was the- **_

_**-which number was the-**_

_**-erhaps Al Azif will allow us to eat-**_

_**-I do hope this does not-**_

_There is no god._

_**Not true, Book, we are here.**_

_Oh my god…_

_**Really, how can you invoke something you do not believe in.**_

_It's just. An expression. It doesn't mean exactly that. Please stop talking._

_**Mortals say far too many things they do not mean.**_

_**Quite. I do not know why you bother memorizing them all, Grimoire.**_

_Uggghhh…_

…You get the idea.

When the thief reached Warehouse 63, she breathed an almost audible sigh of relief and leapt down from the roof, landing with a soft thud in a crouched position. She glanced left, then right – _**you know very well no one can see you - **_before pushing herself up into a standing position. She took a few steps toward the pier to take in her surroundings, breathing in the salty scent of Jump Bay and the sound of waves crashing against the shore.

After a moment, she turned to walk back to the warehouse and stopped just short of walking into a short young woman wearing a fierce expression and a blue hooded cloak that had appeared behind her. She was floored for a moment – it looked like the girl was staring right at her! The violet eyes glaring from beneath the cowl seemed to stare at her face unblinkingly. The thief didn't move; she just stared right back, thoroughly perturbed.

_No fuckin' way._

_**It does appear that she sees you, doesn't it?**_

_Can't be. Obfuscate's never failed before._

"Hey, Rae!" A large man, with what appeared to be glowing blue armor covering him, approached the two rapidly, followed closely by a flying girl with orangish skin, a short boy dressed up like a caped traffic light, and a curious green elf-like boy. The thief glanced at them for a moment, and was reassured that they had no idea she was there. Said "Rae" did not react at all and simply kept staring.

"No luck on our end, no sign of Slade or his Sladeb - "he paused, eyeing at the blue clad girl strangely. "What are you looking at, Raven?"

Quietly, she replied, "…The thief."

_Oh, fuck me sideways. _

…

The wraithlike figure of the thief shot forward, slipping past Raven and gaining a solid form. The thief wearing a green and gold hooded vest, and golden eye mask made a break for the warehouse, swearing almost comically under her breath.

"Wha-Titans Go!" With that cry, the five super heroes sprung into action.

Raven launched forward, displaying an uncharacteristically high level of aggression, flinging several large storage crates in the thief's path to slow her down. The other four Titans paused and looked back at their teammate in surprise.

"Fuck me!" Hissed the crook as she sprung backwards to avoid being crushed. She whipped around, still a good 400 feet from her destination, and glared at her opponents with narrowed red eyes. "What the hell was that about?! I hope you know you could've seriously fucked me up just now!" She yelped as an oil drum was launched at her like a raging bull.

It crashed into the metal doors of the warehouse and smashed them open with an incredible amount of force.

"Whoa, Rae," Beast Boy. "Chill! We're trying to stop her not hospitalize her!"

In a dark tone, Raven shot back, "Speak for yourself."

The thief then decided to speak up, "Y'know what? I think it's time for me to get outta here." She darted towards the warehouse again.

"No!" The sorceress reached out with a tendril of black magic.

It would have caught the other girl if at the last moment, the hooded woman growled out a single word.

"_Labefacto_!" Suddenly, Raven's magic fizzled and died out for a single moment. Those precious few seconds were all the burglar needed to slip into the dark shadows of the warehouse.

Raven growled and made to follow her. Starfire called out to her.

"Friend Raven? You are the okay?"

"…I'm fine. Let's go."

* * *

**a/n: I have 2 teen titans ocs now. Cerebra and this one who does have a (real) name, it just hasn't been revealed yet. **

**side note: I think it would be tedious to specify which outer deity/ being is speaking all the time seeing as the three of them will be cutting in a lot.**

**Please review, thank you for reading~!**


	4. Unreliable Narrator

Grimoire panted as she crouched in the dark shadows, her heart pounding. The darkness melded around her like an otherworldly cloak, keeping her hidden from her pursuers. _Occultum _was a favored spell that had served her well in the past.

She peered at the group of heroes from behind her veil of shadows, keeping a sharp eye on the blue cloaked magic user. **Dark magic, **one of the beings purred. **How very… uncommon. I wonder to whom she has pledged her soul. **

_No one I care to meet, _the thief shot back. _God, it didn't even touch me and I still feel cold. _

**A very powerful sponsor, **the voice agreed.

The Titans spread out among the dark warehouse and Robin shouted, "Come out, now!"

Grimoire smirked. _Let's play a game, I'm a little early. _Her lips parted and she spoke.

Her voice echoed around the room, raspy and thick with the promise of malevolence, from every direction. _"How often does that really work?_" The heroes jumped. "_Be honest, now."_

"Where are you?" Robin demanded. "What's the medallion for?!"

"_The medallion? The medallion is for cashing in on a couple hundred grand," _She chuckled._ "And as for where I am, well, where does it sound like I am?"_

Robin grit his teeth, "What does Slade want with the medallion?"

Grimoire paused. She hadn't thought of that. "_Dunno. Don't really care either."_

Raven cast a layer of magic all over the room. Grimoire shuddered. "Where are you?" The sorceress sneered, her voice taken on a rough, angry edge.

Apprehension needled at Grimoire and she shivered both from the cold veil the other spellcaster's magic tossed over her and from the tiniest sense of dread. Still, she was never one to lose her tongue and Occultum was still holding strong. _"Aww, come now, princess, are you getting mad? Just 'cause I'm winning our little game of hide and go seek? Don't worry, you wouldn't be the first." _

"Where are you?" Raven gritted out again through bared teeth.

"_Tut tut, where are your manners? Can I at least get a 'please'?"_

Raven snarled, but another voice spoke up: Starfire.

"Please?" The alien asked, tentatively.

Grimoire was thrown off for a moment. She hadn't been expecting anyone to take the taunt so thickly layered in sarcasm seriously, even one of the Elder Things was floored. Her grip on the Echo spell slipped and instead of the intimidating omnipresent voice, her natural confused alto slipped past her lips, "…What?"

Raven immediately turned towards the sound of her voice and Grimoire swore softly in a couple languages, several of them dead, realizing her mistake as soon as she spotted the sorceress's red tinged violet eyes turn in her direction.

An ancient voice like thundering waves washed through Grimoire's mind, as she slowly backed away, **Of all the stupid mistakes you could have made, that was the most amusing.**

"Pudor tu," she growled back under her breath. "Eat shit, sushi face."

Raven advanced more quickly. And, the Elder Thing laughed. **You're still speaking aloud, book. **

_Shut up, Dagon! _She crouched down lower to the ground under the cloak of shadows. _You can't see me you can't see me you can't see me… _She chanted in her head. Raven's hands began to glow again with dark magic. _No no no no no… Dagon this is all your fault. _

Dagon chuckled. **Your own arrogance led to this. But, **there was a gleeful sound and Grimoire could imagine the pause to be for the Outer thing to grin menacingly at her with a needle fang-toothed smile.** If you want something to be my fault… **

Grimoire felt some of her magic draw away from her and hissed, _Don't you even dare…! _Occultum shattered under the force of the draining magic and Grimoire might have been concerned about her hiding place being found – she dimly registered all five of the Titans crying out in triumph – but, what her mystic energy was being drawn to was the more concerning issue.

Grimoire, while she was the human incarnation of the Book of the Damned, was still a mortal at her core. She may not age and she could not technically die without first having her soul and the book's being disentangled, she was still bound by the limits of mortal laws of nature. She had never truly seen any of the Elder Gods; not in their true forms. She would not be able to comprehend it. No mortal was meant to. They'd appeared to her as other things, I they decided to appear to her at all. Sometimes as simple things: mice, fish, birds, insects, monstrosities and sometimes even men. She could recognize them despite the shapes they took. Dagon's favorite forms were fish or fishmen or a handsome sailor and when she summoned a piece of him to aid her in any of her machinations, he took the form of a terrifying sea beast.

So, whatever it was the Outer Thing was planning to do, Grimoire knew it likely had something to do with water. She just couldn't tell what. The entity didn't seem to have any inclination to tell her. And, without knowing what the curse was going to do, she couldn't do much about it. She stood to her full height, and faced the Teen Titans, grimacing. _I suppose I'll have to deal with that when the time comes…._

The five heroes were watching her carefully, Raven in the lead, still looking seething.

"Finally got tired of hiding?" questioned Cyborg. His arm cannon was charging and his mouth was set in a grim line.

Grimoire regarded them warily. Beast Boy had shifted into a green jungle cat, haunches bunched in preparation to spring at her if she moved. Starfire was hovering back overhead, eyes glowing green and starbolts clutched in her fists. Robin was the only one really actively moving and Grimoire glanced at him as he slowly moved to circle behind her.

The corner of her mouth tipped upwards slightly into a half smirk. She tilted her chin up and looked at Cyborg with cocky half lidded eyes. "Nah," she said conversationally. "Something just came up. Not sure what though…" _There's no water here. What the hell are you plotting?_

**Wouldn't you like to know.**

She heard creaking and groaning above her and she, along with the Titans, looked up. In the dimness of the warehouse, she could just barely make out the pipes contorting and bulging under the force of the water flowing through them. A single drop of water fell on her face as the metal began to give.

And then, Grimoire realized. "…Oh, you fish lipped mother fucke-!"

The pipes burst with a screech and a clank and the room flooded – with seawater, if the smell was any indication.

Grimoire, fast, sprightly, and scowling, a bit like an alley cat, sprang up and up to the top of some of the larger storage units, just barely managing to get doused instead of thoroughly soaked. She swore, loudly, in English, then French, then Arabic, then Latin, then some odd hissing language that grated against the ear.

She paused, her eyes narrowed, and then she shouted out, "And, where the fuck is that walking masked asshole with my gods damned money!?"

"Temper, temper…" purred a smooth baritone from behind her. Grimoire jumped and whirled around to see Slade standing not ten feet behind her.

Wide startled crimson eyes narrowed into slits, "You. You're late." She held out her right hand to him and drew the amulet from her jacket with her left. "My money?"

"Come now, child. No need to be so rude." He strolled around her casually as if sizing her up. "Quite a mess you've caused."

She bit back an immature reply. It would have been something akin to _'Just like I did to your mother last night.' _

Instead, Grimoire just stared and wiggled her fingers insistently. He rolled his single eye and pulled out a small bundle of money. When he placed it in her hand, he reached to grab the amulet. She drew back before he could wrap his fingers around it. She held up one finger and began to count the thousand dollar bills.

Slade looked dumbstruck, if one could tell with just having an eye to work with it. "It's all there…"

"I'll be the judge of that." Still counting.

For a moment, all Slade could do was watch her count. "Er…"

As she got to the end of the stack, she twirled the amulet around one finger and suddenly there was a loud splash. The Teen Titans burst out from beneath the waves. Beast Boy and Starfire deposited Cyborg and Robin on some nearby crates as Raven hovered nearby.

"Stop right there!" Shouted Robin.

"Oh, how very original, Traffic Light," Grimoire drawled, her gaze still drawn down to her money. "Color me thwarted, hero."

Slade chuckled. "I like this one."

"Slade…" Robin growled.

Grimoire glanced up, paused, narrowed her eyes, and pocketed her money. "Yeah, whatever. Here's your amulet thing." She stepped forward to hand over the trinket but immediately hopped back as a statbolt hit the ground where she stood before.

"I will not warn you again, thief." Starfire's eyes glowed dangerously. "Please, desist at once."

Grimoire regarded the Titans carefully. Then, without looking she tossed the amulet to Slade. "Don't tell me what to do." The Titans cried out and attempted to rush forward, but were blocked back by another pipe bursting.

The one eyed villain caught his prize with one hand and Grimoire walked towards the edge of the storage unit. He turned it over in his hands, a maniacal chuckle bubbling up from his throat.

Grimoire leapt down to the next stack of crates offering a two fingered wave, "See ya later, scrubs. My work here is done."

She muttered a spell under her breath,_"Exite, et qui ministrant in domo regis mare!"_

Soon enough, she spied a Deep One peering up at her beneath the frothing waves. The amphibious fish men were her least favorite summons. They were just so creepy and slimy and their huge dead empty eyes were unsettling. She couldn't stand touching them for too long. But, they had their uses. They were strong, tall, and could swim much faster than she could ever hope to. So, really she had little choice but to call one forth in this situation.

Grimoire rolled her eyes and leapt down. The Deep One leapt up to meet her.

Or, at least he would have, had hell not broken loose at that moment. A bolt of hellfire slammed into the walking fish, causing him to explode into fleshy chunks and Grimoire to slam into the now roiling miniature sea.

As she sunk, she thought, _I hate you, Dagon, this is all your fault. _

Dagon's hissing laughter echoed.

* * *

**a/n: cool cool.**

**fish man. **

**fighter of the bird man. **

**champion of the sun.**

**you're a master of the ocean. **

**and sushi.**

**for everyone!**


End file.
